Brian Josephs wants you to know Quavo is a precious angel who needs to be protected at all costs.
If you’re familiar with church, chances are you heard of a phenomenon known as “catching the holy ghost.” It’s like when the horns of “Blood on the Leaves” blare in the club — with all the mid-coitus hollering, body movin’ and speaking in tongues — except without the sin. Your dopamine levels don’t gradually increase; you don’t catch a little bit of that spirit, it hits you full force. You don’t wean off that shit either. It goes normalcy, then the elated plateau, then calm.
“Lunch Money,” the latest offering from the parish of G.O.O.D. Music, works to that effect. Since the Rosewood suits, Pusha T has been the camp’s coldest and sharpest representative of Kanye West’s gospel. This joint pushes that relationship to the extreme ends. Pusha T’s consistency streak continues, and here, he somehow finds time to succinctly synopsize his career’s modus operandi: “This is crime by design, if the crown ain’t mine tell me who am I behind.” But like the duo’s 2013 surprise, West wordlessly serves as the espresso with a tense concoction of urgency and mind-fuckery. This is a graffiti-tagged MTA redbird ghost train making its way from Bronx’s above ground railroad bridges to the nightclubs of Chicago — with local stops at the planet of funkadelica and through Bomb Squad sonic detritus. The conductor is playing this out of his boombox. Don’t be indignant; your lunch money is a minor tithe.
